


Steve Rogers Is (Not) A Morning Person

by theappleppielifestyle



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:44:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theappleppielifestyle/pseuds/theappleppielifestyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Dream, </i>Steve decides. With that comforting knowledge, Steve takes Tony's face in his hands and kisses him.</p>
<p>(Spoilers: it isn't a dream.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steve Rogers Is (Not) A Morning Person

**Author's Note:**

> From this prompt which isn't really a prompt: http://sirdef.tumblr.com/post/74232788422

Steve is in a haze, scrubbing crusted oatmeal out of a bowl when Peter walks in wearing a neon pink spiderman suit. Blearily, Steve looks up, and takes in the pink spandex with not enough confusion that he thinks he should have right now.

As he wonders idly whether he's awake or not- it's entirely possible, given he can't pin down where he was ten minutes ago- Wolverine comes into the kitchen, a smug smile on his face as he grunts, "G'morning," and nicks several of Tony's pancakes.

"Hey," Tony says from Steve's side, affronted, sliding the plate of pancakes away. He glares at Wolverine, who stuffs Tony's pancakes in his mouth and starts chewing.

The crease between Tony's eyebrows smooths when he turns to Steve. He nudges his plate towards him. He asks, "Want a taste," and winks.

Steve looks down at the heart-shaped pancakes, then back up at Tony's suggestive expression.

_Dream_ , Steve decides. There's no way Tony could make these in real life without burning them in a few places.

With that comforting knowledge, Steve takes Tony's face in his hands and kisses him. The squeak Tony makes into Steve’s mouth is unexpected- usually Tony just goes with it. But then Tony’s kissing back, his hands coming to rest on Steve’s hips.

_Good dream_ , Steve decides, licking his way into Tony’s mouth before picking Tony up by his ass and placing him down on the kitchen table.

Dimly, he’s aware of Peter saying loudly, “I’m gonna go- elsewhere,” and Wolverine muttering, “Right with ya, bub,” but Steve doesn’t care about them, because he’s kissing his way down dream-Tony’s neck, pausing there to give Tony a hickey.

Tony’s making more noise than he normally does in these dreams, but Steve isn’t complaining. He slides his hands down Tony’s shirt until they reach the hem, and then pushes up Tony’s shirt so it exposes the arc reactor. He bends, presses three careless kisses to the skin around it, then one smack in the center before letting Tony’s shirt drop back down. When he goes back to kissing Tony, Tony’s mouth is already open, and Steve hums, pleased, into his mouth, before sucking on his tongue.

This continues for a few more seconds before Steve reaches down the back of Tony’s pants, squeezes Tony’s ass, says, “Love you,” and then walks off.

-

Tony paces because pacing is helpful. Pacing is a calming process which jogs the brain. Pacing is going to help him get the taste of Steve out of his mouth, not that he wants to.

“Mind control,” he suggests to the group.

“For the fifth time,” Reed Richards tells him, “We’ve scanned him. He comes up clean. He’s not a Skrull, he’s not under any influence we can find.”

“You could just ask him, Tony,” Jane Foster suggests, sitting on the same table Tony had been sitting on less than three hours ago. With Steve’s tongue in his mouth. Fucking fuck.

Tony nods. “I could. Or. Or, we could run the hypnotism test again.”

To his right, Jane sighs and hops off the table. “Thor, babe, let Steve out.”

Thor complies, and out walks Steve, his adorable confused face on.

“What happened,” he demands, looking at each one of them in turn. They all squirm under his gaze, including Thor, which is interesting to watch.

“You’re not hypnotized,” Jane says helpfully.

Steve looks at her. “Thank you. I knew that. Why was I just tested for everything known to man?”

“You did something, uh, suspicious,” Peter says. “Something very Not-Stevey. Which is totally a technical term, I’m calling it. So we figured better safe than sorry. Um. Uh, Cap, are you okay?”

As Peter had been talking, Steve’s eyes had gotten bigger, his face redder, until now he looks like a cute boiled tomato.

“Your, it’s pink,” Steve manages.

Peter glances down at his suit. “Oh, yeah, ha, funny story. It got mixed up with-”

“Oh, god,” Steve says, staring at Tony, then at his neck, where the hickey is now a bright purple. “God- Tony, I’m so sorry, I thought I was dreaming.”

Jane’s eyebrows are raised to her hairline. “Do you usually kiss Tony a lot in your dreams?”

Steve starts to answer before cutting the yes off and saying stiffly, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Oh, god, he does,” Peter blurts, and then looks like he regrets it. “Uh, not that we have a problem. With that. Everyone should marry who they want, is what I say. Not that I’m saying you’re gonna marry Tony. Unless you want to! Which is totally fine, it’s cool with us, I mean you did say you love the guy. Not that I was eavesdropping or anything, I just, I was passing by with MJ to prove to her that this was actually happening, because we have a bet with the people across the hall-”

“Stop helping,” Tony tells him, and Peter’s mouth snaps shut.

“So now that we know there’s nothing wrong,” Reed says slowly, “I think I’m going to get back to my lab.”

“So am I,” Peter says. “Not my lab, my apartment.”

“Yeah,” Jane says, hopping down off the table. “I think we should all vamoose and leave these two to talk. Which means you two should talk,” she says, and fixes both of them with a look. “Okay?”

At a lack of anything else to respond, Steve calls a weak, “Tell MJ thanks for the sweater,” out the door at Peter, who waves over his shoulder before walking faster.

Reed makes a quick exit, with Thor and Jane in tow, leaving Steve and Tony standing in the kitchen looking at each other.

“Am I a good kisser in your dreams,” Tony asks after about thirty seconds of agonizing silence, mostly for something to put them both out of their misery.

“Yes.”

“Better than in real life?”

“Maybe,” Steve says, and hesitates. “I, uh. Was pretty zoned out, honestly. I think I’d have to try again to check.”

“Okay,” Tony croaks, and then coughs. “I mean, yeah, okay. Get over here.”

He motions with his arms, feeling like an idiot, and Steve shuffles until his hands are on Tony’s waist again.

“Hey, about that last thing you said,” Tony says quickly, “did you mean it, or was that just Steve being really bad in the mornings?”

“I’m great in the mornings,” Steve says, frowning. “I’m a morning person, ask anyone.”

“Sure, Steve, we’ve all seen you slumping around the Tower.”

There’s a short silence, and Steve clears his throat.

“I… did,” Steve says slowly. “I meant it.”

Tony swallows. “Okay, great. Uh, me too.”  
“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, his hands rubbing circles on the back of Steve’s neck. He pulls him down, and Steve comes obediently, his mouth opening under Tony’s.

“You awake now,” Tony mumbles into his mouth.

“Shuddup,” Steve mumbles back, and then there isn’t much talking for a while.

  



End file.
